


Plumber’s Got Pipes

by moshiznik



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, CapSeptender, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Strangers, Thicc Bucky, cuddleable sweaters, plumber bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 12:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moshiznik/pseuds/moshiznik
Summary: “That plumber’s got pipes.” 😏Featuring one hot plumber, surprisingly sweet smiles, and cuddleable sweaters.





	Plumber’s Got Pipes

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for Steve’s lusty thoughts.

The incessant dripping that has been plaguing Steve’s loft for the past month is now, thankfully, replaced by the clinking and clanking of pipes and tools and who knows what else the plumber is currently working on. While the plumber, who had politely introduced himself as Bucky before making his way into Steve’s kitchen, is laying down under the sink busy working away to fix Steve’s leaky faucet, Steve is leaning intently over his giant kitchen island not even pretending to work on the sketch laid out in front of him. Instead of the piece he should be finishing for one of his new clients, Steve’s full attention is captivated by thick juicy thighs and a mouthwateringly distracting bulge. Because damn, that plumber’s got pipes.

Not to mention those biceps. Thick, bulging, could-lift-you-up-against-the-wall-and-bang-you-all-night-long sized biceps. Until this moment, Steve has never had a size kink. The opposite, in fact, given his history withbig guys he’s hooked up with assuming that they could throw him around just because he was smaller than your average Joe. But damn does he want to be swept up by all those bulging muscles and kiss that dazzling smile. He wants to run his fingers through that thick, glossy hair and just _pull_.

He gets lost in the fantasy and, thus, completely misses the moment that all noise stops and Bucky, apparently done, is now sitting on the floor and staring up at him with a questioning look and a kind smile. As Steve tries to swallow his lust and regain his cool, the seconds tick by.

“Huh?” is all he can manage, trying to snap himself back into some semblance of yes-I-am-a-normal-functioning-adult-human-that-can-be-respectful.

Bucky, thankfully, laughs and stands up. Steve tries not to drool but can’t help the tiny sigh at watching all of those amazing muscles move under the tight denim and work shirt he’s wearing. Who knew a plain black tee could look so good.

“I said,” he smiles, those grey-blue eyes twinkling just enough to make Steve swoon, “that should fix the problem.”

Bucky’s voice is deep and rich, just as distracting as the rest of him. And that smile, the kind crinkle at the corner of his eye, is making Steve feel a little light headed.

A loud beep interrupts their non-conversation and Bucky pulls a cell phone out of his pocket.

“Sorry, Steve, but I need to get to my next appointment. You let me know if you have any other issues.”

Steve nods and shows Bucky out the door, disappointed that he has to leave so soon. Just as he’s about to shut the door, Bucky turns to him, a shy look on his face and his eyes unable to meet Steve’s.

“Are you an artist?”

The question catches him off guard, pulling his focus to Bucky’s eyes and not his muscled 6 foot stature that looms over him like a tree he yearns to climb.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Steve waits for something else but Bucky offers nothing, instead shoving his hands into his pockets and giving Steve the cutest shy look he has ever seen. _Ever_.

“You like art?” Steve asks, inwardly cringing at the stilted question. This is honestly the worst flirting-but-not-really-flirting he has ever attempted.

Bucky blushes and nods, his shoulders hunching ever so slightly as if he’s aware of just how much taller he is than Steve as they stand face to face in the doorway.

Steve takes it in, every last bit of him, reassessing his whole life because, honestly, he feels like he’s not gonna be able to get over that sweet, shy smile and that cute little blush. Bucky’s whole demeanor contrasts with the lust-filled thoughts that had been preoccupying Steve for the last half hour. While tall and obviously strong, Bucky’s posture is soft, his voice almost hesitant like he doesn’t quite know what to say or, maybe, if he isn’t sure the conversation is welcome. The fact that he’s lingering in Steve’s doorway looking all adorable and scruffy and like sex-on-legs fills Steve with a warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“You wanna come back some time? I can show you more of my work if you’d like?” Steve really hopes the offer doesn’t make him sound like a complete douche asking for a blatant booty call because he really _really_ wants to see that blush again.

Finally, Bucky meets Steve’s eyes, hope oozing out of him like he’s a lost puppy waiting for a furever home. Steve’s heart melts.

“I’d like that,” Bucky’s deep, rich voice sounds so soft and gooey, like a perfectly heated s’more that oozes out all kinds of sugary sweet goodness. Steve wants to hear it again. Wants to draw it. It should be impossible given that he’s literally describing a voice, but he really doesn’t care and will try his damndest because there’s no way he can’t not. 

“How about Friday? I’m just about to finish a commission so I should have a bunch of stuff for you to look at.”

Bucky smiles, this one so much wider and beautiful that Steve isn’t even sure how it’s possible. Bucky is something else and Steve wants to lay at his feet and bask in his light.

“I get off at 6 on Friday.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Another loud beep comes from Bucky’s phone, and he winces guiltily.

“Sorry, but I really have to go.”

“No worries. I should get back to it.”  
Steve motions over his shoulder and Bucky’s smile returns. Steve worries that the sight - really just everything Bucky is - might be addicting with the way his whole body thrums with warmth at the sight.

“See ya.”

Steve waves and watches fondly as Bucky walks off. Friday can’t come soon enough.

-

As much as Steve had been fantasizing about having Bucky in his apartment - _not_ to fix his leaky sink - he had never imagined it to be quite so...PG.

Bucky shows up at his apartment, knocking promptly at 6:30 like they had arranged. When Steve opens the door, he’s expecting to see Bucky in a similar outfit, instead he’s wearing slacks and the most comfortable looking sweater he has ever laid eyes on. He instantly wants to feel those strong arms wrapped around him, cuddling him to his heart’s content.

The evening should have been awkward but it just isn’t. If there is any awkwardness, it is surely due to the tiny pitter patter that Steve’s heart does anytime Bucky looks at him with those warm, grey-blue eyes that shine with kindness and genuine curiosity. Steve hadn’t expected him to actually be interested in his art, but Bucky is. With each piece Steve shows him his eyes light up and he asks very thoughtful, insightful questions. Steve might be falling a little less in lust and a little more in like. Okay, a lot more.

When Steve leads Bucky into his studio, which he rarely shows to anyone, his eyes go wide and mouth opens in what almost looks like wonder. Steve has never had a date, not even some of his more serious partners, take such an immediate, passionate interest in his art. It makes his heart sing.

Their conversation goes so smoothly that one hour passes and then two and then Steve’s stomach decides it has had enough, making a very loud, disgruntled gurgle.

Bucky bursts out laughing and Steve follows. Gosh it feels so good - so natural - to be like this with Bucky. The thought should be concerning, but if anything it makes the warmth in his chest blossom until he feels it singing through every nerve in his body.

“Wanna order in? There’s this great Pho place a few blocks over that delivers.”

Bucky nods, eyes warm and smile wide as he follows Steve out of his studio and down the hallway into the kitchen.

He takes the menu off the fridge, placing it on the island between them. Instead of keeping the careful distance that had been between them all evening, Bucky stands right next to him, leaning slightly into Steve’s side as he looks over the menu. His solid warmth, not to mention his sheer size, serves as a pleasant reminder that he is actually here and Steve isn’t dreaming.

When they finish ordering, Steve places his hand in the crook of Bucky’s elbow, tugging him gently into the living room until they are sitting on his big, comfy couch. Silence elapses but Steve doesn’t mind, and the content look on Bucky’s face says he doesn’t either.

Steve moves closer, needing to feel Bucky’s reassuring heat. Gently, he sets his hand on his arm, tracing the solid strength under that soft, cuddleable sweater from his bicep down to his hand, allowing his fingers to glide over Bucky’s palm, turning his hand over so that he can intertwine their fingers. Bucky smiles, soft and considering, at him, bringing their clasped hands up slowly to his lips and kissing the back of Steve’s hand.

The touch is surprising - light and sweet and causing tingles to work their way from that small spot Bucky’s lips had touched up along his arm and settling in his chest. If Steve isn’t careful he’ll become puddy in Bucky’s more than capable hands.

“Steve,” Bucky says, voice quiet and sure, gaze intense yet reassuring.

“Mmhmm,” he hums, acknowledging that he’s listening.

Bucky pauses, seeming to need a moment before continuing. Steve leans in - and in and in - until their foreheads are touching, eyes intently taking in the worry, the openness on Bucky’s face. Even though they’d just met, Steve feels like he’s known him for a lifetime, maybe two.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve asks unable and unwilling to wait another second, bringing his hand up to delicately cup Bucky’s cheek. He strokes his fingers against the short bristles of his beard and loves the feel of having him so close.

“I was gonna ask that.”

The playful glint in Bucky’s eye makes Steve laugh, “You snooze you lose, pal.”

Bucky’s smile widens, his eyes twinkling with mischief and wonder, “Not from where I’m sitting.” Bucky’s hand moves to rest over Steve’s on his cheek, his thumb stroking in long slow patterns on the back of his hand. His other arm winding around Steve’s waist and hauling him up and in until he is straddling Bucky’s lap.

“Mm, I guess not,” Steve mumbles, his lips brushing against Bucky’s before he closes his eyes and finally, _finally_ kisses him.

Bucky sighs into the kiss, his lips soft and full, his beard scratchy and perfect. The _kiss_ is perfect. It is everything Steve never knew he wanted - no, needed - and he melts into Bucky, pouring everything he has, everything he is into the kiss. Bucky gives a pleased little hum, moving both hands to cup Steve’s neck, lightly pulling at the strands of his hair until Steve is a content pile of endorphins in his lap.

In contrast to every fantasy he’d had of Bucky while he was working on his sink, the kiss doesn’t turn heated, both of them content to simply bask in the moment.

At least until his apartment buzzer rings, startling Steve back to reality.

Pulling himself up, he checks the video feed and buzzes the food delivery person into the building. Needing a moment to recenter himself - because apparently Bucky’s kisses are just that earth shattering - Steve refuses to turn around and look at him. The sight of those long limbs and that damn cuddleable sweater - or is it the man himself? - would be enough to pull him back to the couch and say fuck it. Instead, he grabs a couple of twenty dollar bills from his wallet and opens the door once he hears a knock, his stomach giving another loud gurgle at the delicious smells.

Steve takes the bags and hands over the cash, telling them to keep the change before closing the door with a friendly wave.

Turning around, he finds that Bucky is indeed sprawled out adorably on his couch, his eyes half closed in lazy contentment as he watches Steve come back into the living room.

“Come ‘ere,” he mumbles, brushing his hand along Steve’s side and then lightly pulling him in front of him until he can lean forward and rest his head against Steve’s stomach. The position is so unexpected that Steve can’t help but smile fondly down at the top of Bcuky’s head, his hands moving of their own accord until those long, soft brown tresses are wrapped around his fingers. “Tha’s nice,” Bucky murmurs and Steve can’t help but chuckle.

“All right, ya big teddy bear. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

Bucky sighs in feigned annoyance and leans back, kissing the inside of Steve’s elbow before grabbing one of the bags.

They eat dinner in companionable silence and it strikes Steve that this - relationships, first dates, however he wants to classify whatever this is - has never been so easy, has never felt so right.

Maybe it’s Steve’s imagination, but he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, it’s Bucky.

Bucky catches him staring, his mouth full as he wolfs down one of the bahn mis. Steve can feel his face flush even as he maintains eye contact.

“You do that a lot, ya know. Stare at me.”

Steve shrugs. There’s no point denying it.

Bucky laughs, covering his mouth so food doesn’t get everywhere, “What dirty thoughts go on in there?” Bucky gives him a knowing side eye, and Steve can’t help but smirk right back.

Biting his lip like he’s got a secret, he leans forward, careful to keep a playful glint in his eyes as he looks up and down Bucky’s long, mouthwatering body.

“I’m thinking... that damn that plumber’s got pipes,” he makes his voice as breathy as possible, and the effect seems to work. Bucky bursts out laughing and hauls him in for a short but thorough kiss.

“I sure do” he says, breathless and, for the first time, with real heat in his eyes. “Wanna check out the equipment?”

Steve smiles into the next kiss, digging his fingers into Bucky’s soft sweater and drawing him even closer, enjoying the sheer strength of all those muscles wrapped tightly around him.

“Mm, maybe later. For now, you can cuddle me.”

Bucky kisses his cheek, a glimmer of surprise and careful appreciation in his eyes. Steve smiles back and worms his way into Bucky’s embrace, content to snuggle the crap out of the sweater and the man wearing it.

**Author's Note:**

> I was rewatching The Office and inspiration struck with this great line. I also wanted to write something for CapSeptender, so here we are.


End file.
